As I Watch
by Natalie Jacobson
Summary: He watches from heaven as his friends learn to live without him.
1. Chapter One ver 2

[Note] This story is inspired by Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones. I read this book in the summer of 2002 and I absolutely fell in love with this book. Read it if you get the chance, it's amazing. 

I'd also like to note that this is my first piece of fan fiction that deviates from what genre of what it's based upon. In my first two fan fiction pieces (TOW Ross's Curse and TOW Chandler is Scared), I've tried to keep the pieces as close to the show as possible while still letting my imagination roam. This time, I'm just going to write and see what happens. Things probably will not be continuous with the show. Don't tell me if something in it is wrong (relationships, family members, etc), I did it on purpose to make it work with the story.

This is version two of the story. For those of you who read it before, Chandler was murdered while walking home with Rachel. This version just seemed more realistic. I also had a new idea and this situation worked better.

Reviews are _very much_ appreciated. I have a lot of ideas for this story, so please let me know what you think as I go along. This is a close to original fiction as I've gotten with fan fiction (well, seeing as how this is only my third attempt). I hope you like this. Please review so I know whether or not to continue or trash this story

.___________________________________ 

**One**

Death is not what I thought it would be. Everything I had heard was not true. I was not a religious man when I was alive, but I am in heaven. There was no tunnel with a bright light, there was only pain, then a release as my soul floated away from my body. I died on Christmas day at the age of 28, which was really ironic since Thanksgiving was the holiday I hated. 

You're probably wondering how a 28 year old could die. Cancer? Deterioritng health? No. I was in perfect health. Maybe I fell off the fire escape of my New York apartment and plunged to my death. No, not even I was enough of a klutz for that. Maybe I was murdered? No. 

Ever since my parents divorced when I was a child, I have hated Thanksgiving. Christmas was still special to me, though. Every year, it meant change. I could start over, become a new person. A better person. Nicer. Richer. Smarter. Every year, I failed, but there was always the promise of next year. But this time, it was different. This time, I had someone to welcome the new year with. 

That could have been the story of my life. As I watch the people on earth, and the souls here in heaven, I can't help but feel slightly bitter. The majority of people here had a chance to live a full life. But when I look around more, there are also those much younger than me. I realize now, too late of course, my life was not fullfilled. I was beginning to get things together, everything was falling in place. As soon as I was beginning to shape my life, it was taken away from me. How is that fair?

No matter how much I try to put it off, I keep going back to the one thing I try not to believe is true. I am, in fact, dead. Like most others, I was denied the chance to say good-bye. There is always so much left unsaid during one's lifetime; I could have written the great American novel with all the things I wanted my friends to know. 

Some things are better left unsaid, they say. Not true. 

So it was Christmas day, early in the morning, right before dawn, where everything seems to glow in the moon. It glows because it knows that for another day, it could never be that peaceful again.

I was in a car. Strange circumstances led to one of my best friends, Rachel, a former classmate of mine, Derek, and I to be driving back from his cabin in Maine. Driving up there had exhausted me. Derek offered to drive back after he saw how tired I was. I had settled in the back seat. Rachel was in the front passenger seat, asleep even before Derek pulled out of the parking lot.

And then a restless sleep. I had a fight with my fiancee, Monica Gellar and Rachel's best friend, before I left to pick up Rachel and Derek. It nagged at me the entire way up, the feeling never went away. I don't know how long I slept.

Then, I opened my eyes as a shriek pierced the air. Rachel. I looked up to see a rail coming closer by the second. In the few precious seconds that followed, my eyes flickered to Derek who had jerked awake and slammed the brakes desperately. An unforunate driver was coming directly towards us. 

The two cars collided, skidding, metal falling apart, sparks flying, the crashes, and the never ending screaming. Then it stopped. Silence. Just Rachel panting as she struggled to regain sanity. Derek leaned over the best he could. He couldn't move his legs. 

What about me? I don't know. How do you register something that happens within two seconds? Metal, collision, fragile human body. Can you do the math now?

I know this much: there was blood and pain and coldness. I stared ahead with glazed eyes. Rachel turned around and reached out to touch my hand. I felt her warmth. I was so cold by then.

"Chandler?" she said, panic evident in her voice. 

"Omigod... Chandler," she gasped. She was horrified. By what? Blood? The twisted metal? There was silence. 

After a moment, Rachel slowly pulled out her cell phone with shaky hands. She dialed three numbers. I tried to listen but her voice was becoming more and more distant. She cried and tried to listen to the person on the other end, tried to stay calm. She turned back to me again. 

"They're coming, hold on a bit longer. We're all going to be okay," she assured me. 

No matter how quickly the paramedics arrived, they were too late. Because as I gazed at one of my best friends and thought of the woman I loved, I died.


	2. Chapter Two

[Note] Thanks for everyone's feedback so far. I really appreciate all the comments I've received. Keep r/r! :)

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**Two**

All my earthly desires I had are fullfilled in heaven. I suppose that is why it's called heaven. When I came, I was met by unfamiliar faces, but little by little, I made my way around. I finally met my grandmother after days of searching for someone who could provide comfort, familiarity. She told me she had watched me since the day I was born until my death. She said that while she would have done anything so that I could live, but she could not help but feel happy to finally meet me.

My heaven is a reflection of my life on earth, with adjustments to fit my desires. My home is Monica's apartment. Just like it had been on earth, my old apartment that I shared with my best friend Joey was across the hall. Of course it wasn't the same. Far from it. I've never known these rooms to be empty. I sometimes wonder if I should start over and create something that would be less painful for me, but I can't give it up. I can only wander my streets filled with people I don't know. My friends still on earth.

After moving in with my girlfriend, I had dreams of our future. I wanted a family and a future with her. I wanted us to have children and maybe move into a real house in the suburbs. 

But everything is empty. In heaven, all one has to do is to know what they want, and it will be there. I know what I want, but it's the one thing I can't have. I want my life.

* * *

In a way, I was not surprised by my friends's reactions to my death. I think I was so shocked to finally realize that I was no longer one of the living, I had no room for any other emotions. After I had gotten over the initial shock, I started watching my friends. And that is where I realized that while it was over for me, it was only the beginning for them. The waiting room in the hospital was lit by flourescent lights. The brightness bounced off the linoleum and created harsh glares. Ross squinted as he looked over at his sister, my girlfriend, Monica. She sat there, motionless. I could have read her thoughts, but it seemed wrong for me to invade something so private. Instead, I gazed down upon her beautiful face. I hated myself for being the reason for the pain in her eyes.

One of my other best friends and former roommate, Joey, rushed in through the doors, stopping when he saw them. He didn't say a word, but sat down, a grim expression on his face. He was followed by Phoebe, carrying her guitar case, having stopped in the middle of a song in Central Perk to come.

The four of the sat there silently, Ross trying to give an iota of comfor to his sister. "Monica," he said gently, resting a hand on her back. She stared straight ahead, seemingly unaware of her brother's hand trying to give her comfort.

"Monica, say something," Ross pleaded. Monica blinked once. "Please, Ross... Don't..." she whispered, her voice barely trembling. Ross pulled his hand away looking up desperately at Joey and Phoebe. Phoebe took the chair on the other side of Monica while Joey remained standing, staring uncomfortably at the scene.

I'd never seen Joey put in a situation like this, and it was obvious he was at a loss of words or actions. The four of them remained there with barely any movements, each stuck in his or her own thoughts. 

"Hey..."

The four looked up and relief washed over their faces as they saw Rachel slowly walking towards them, her clothes and hair slightly disheveled, but otherwise fine.

"Rachel!" Phoebe gasped. She crossed the distance in less than two seconds and gingerly wrapped her arms around her friend, afraid to hurt her. Rachel smiled and hugged her friend tightly. She looked over her shoulder at Joey who was standing two feet away and reached for him. The three of them stood there for a few minutes before reluctantly breaking apart. 

Rachel looked down at Monica. She slowly bent down to clasp her hands and pull her up.

"Chandler." I felt like I was dying all over again when I heard the pain, the devestation in her voice. 

"Oh Monica," Rachel whispered, throwing her arms around her best friend. Monica buried her head in Rachel's shoulder, finally letting out the sob she was holding in.

"No! No, please no!" she cried. She unclenched her arms and sank down to the floor. Ross caught her before she fell on her knees, holding her to him as she sobbed into her hands.

Monica, I thought. Please don't cry. Baby, please don't cry.

* * *

They made their way back home slowly. Ross and Phoebe had agreed to stay with Monica in her apartment so she wouldn't be alone. Rachel and Joey returned to their apartment and she slowly made her way to her room, which used to be mine before I moved across the hall. 

"You going to be okay?" Joey asked. Rachel nodded, "I just need some rest. Joey, please do me a favor?"

"Yeah, sure anything."

"I don't know if I'm going to want to talk about this in the morning. But please make sure Monica doesn't speak to Derek until I've spoken to her first."

Joey nodded and gave her a hug. He went to the refridgerator and pulled out a can of beer as she closed the door to her room.

He sat down on his favorite recliner and gazed at the ceiling. For the first time since I could remember, Joey was lost in his thoughts. As much as I didn't want to invade my friends' privacy, it was too much and I let myself hear his thoughts.

I could feel his fatigue. He and Ross had been strong, a pillar for the three girls to lean on when they could find no other support. Who was I to cause this much pain? How could I let everyone grieve for me? How am I worth it?

This day should have been so different. I should be in bed with Monica and we should have just finished having sex, or just about to. Something, anything. Just to be with Monica. 

We all should be stuffed and ten pounds heavier from the delicious feast Monica had prepared. I wanted everyone to open the gifts I had gotten for them this year. Everyone should be in their own rooms sleeping contently, dreaming of whatever it is they love to dream of. Something Christmas-y maybe. Sugar plums or whatever.

But instead, they spent their day at the hospital, eating instant noodles. Now they lay in their beds, Ross on Monica's couch, restless. And doing what? Thinking of me.

Please stop, you guys. I'm not worth it.

Ross turned his head to look at a framed picture sitting on an end table. It was of Monica, Phoebe, Joey, and me at the beach a few years back. He picked it up and stared at the four happy faces, frozen in time.

What I would give to get that moment back.

Ross looked intently at the picture, staring at his sister's happy face. The face of a woman untouched by a huge tragedy. A woman who was not naive or ignorant, but hadn't yet felt the pain of the world yet. Phoebe. She was so happy. Her new age ideals seemed to lead her through life in a haze. Have I penetrated that haze? 

My best friend Joey. He had never felt true loss or pain. How could I force him to feel so much at once?

Ross set the picture gently back down. _I can't believe you're dead, Chandler. I can't believe my best friend is..._

I shut him out. I shut all of them out. Tonight wasn't the night to listen. 


	3. Chapter Three

[Note] 

.___________________________________ 

**Three**

The day after Christmas was a reminder of reality. I watched as each of my friends opened their eyes, trying to cling onto the last remnants of sleep. 

Phoebe was up first, slowly walking out of the guestroom and past Ross, making sure not to wake him. Outside, the dawn cast golden rays through the window. It was a beautiful day. 

She slowly made a pot of coffee, enough for all five of them. She moved carefully to minimize the noise, but Ross woke anyway. They smiled at eachother, but then quickly looked away, each trying to mask their grief.

"Morning," he said in a quiet voice. Phoebe turned on the coffemaker and looked back, "Morning." The two remained in their spots uncomfortably. Ross slowly got up off the couch and rubbed his eyes.

"I want to talk about this. But at the same time..." Phoebe started, her voice trailing. Ross nodded, got up, and walked to her. "I know. We all feel that way," Ross said, putting an arm around her and giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

"Coffee's ready," Phoebe muttered, pulling away to get mugs. Ross sat down at the table, giving her a grateful smile as she set down a steaming mug in front of him.

A gentle knock came at the door and the two looked up at Joey walked in.

"Didn't you sleep?" Phoebe asked after taking a glance as his appearance. He seemed to have aged within one night. He shook his head and gratefully took a mug of coffee and sat down beside Ross. 

"How's Rachel?" Ross asked.

At that moment, she entered the room, her eyes looking even more bloodshot than the rest of the them. Ross got up and gave her a hug. I noticed it was more than just an embrace of consolation. After coming so close to losing some he had cared about so much, Ross was beginning to realize his feelings for this woman had only been dormant; the feelings had never left.

I watched as four of my friends drank their coffee, unable to ingest much else. Even Joey. None of them could think of a thing to say. 

What have I done? I thought. How could I have brought so much hurt to all of my friends?

The four of the sat there for twenty minutes before the door to Monica's room finally opened. 

I gazed at her as she slowly made her way across the apartment. She had dreamed of me. It was everything I could do to not interfere with her dream. I would speak to her again when she was ready. Instead, I watched, filled with guilt as she slept restlessly, waking up periodically throughout the night. Each time, she looked over at what was my side of the bed, then cried herself to sleep again. 

How could I have done that to the woman I love?

Phoebe, Ross, Rachel, and Joey watched as Monica made her way to the kitchen. She waved away a mug of coffee offered to her by Ross. 

"Monica...?" Rachel said gently. 

"First thing's first," Monica started. Her authoritive tone was forced. She was fighting to keep her tough facade up. 

Nothing is wrong until you start facing it. That was what Monica was doing. 

"What's first?" asked Joey. Monica took a deep breath.

"I'm going to cook us some breakfast and then, we're going to get the presents done and over with, and then..." her voice faltered, but she regained her composure, "we'll figure it out from there."

The four of them looked at her with worried expressions.

"Mon," Rachel tried again.

"Well," Monica interrupted, "how does eggs sound? Phoebe? Want some oatmeal or something?" She turned and started busying herself before anyone could answer. Ross gently pulled her by her shoulder.

"Don't, you guys, just don't, okay?" she said, pulling sharply away from him. She looked at them, her eyes pleading with them to let her be.

She sighed and turned to the stove. "Ross, why don't you get the presents ready? Keep busy guys. Just keep busy." She paused and gazed at each of them.

"And just don't think."

* * *

"This is from Rachel to Ross," Phoebe said, reading the card from a medium sized package. The five of them were sitting around the coffee table. It seemed like a normal situation, but it was the expressions on their faces that gave it away.

Monica kept glancing at the door, as if I'd walk in any moment.

_Don't think,_ she ordered herself. In heaven, I sighed. Why can't you think of me, Monica?

"Thank you, Ross," Rachel said sincerely, "I really love it." Ross nodded, not focusing on any of the activities surrounding him.

Joey looked around, "I think that's it for our presents." They all looked at the final pile of packages on the floor. My gifts.

"Let's do this later," Rachel suggested. Monica set her mouth in a grim line and plucked the first box from the pile. "This is for you," she said, holding it out to Joey.

I watched as he slowly unwrapped the box. I noticed he was struggling to contain unfamiliar emotions. He opened the box.

"Tickets to the Knicks game," he said, showing the others. He sighed, "Three tickets." He bit his lip as he put lid back on the box. He leaned over and put his head in his hands. Phoebe draped her arm around him, rubbing his back slowly.

Monica extended another package to Rachel who took it with trembling hands.

"It's a gift certificate," she said with a small smile. I hadn't wanted to chance it and given her a gift she would return. She looked away as she felt tears welling up.

"Phoebe, Ross," Monica whispered, fighting back her own tears as she handed them their gifts. Phoebe unwrapped her aromatherapy oils as Ross opened his 5 disk DVD set of dinosaur history. 

"Wow," Rachel mumured appreciatively. "I know," Ross said.

In heaven, I could feel their gratitude. I only wished I could have been sitting there with them. We all could have been laughing and having the best Christmas ever. 

Monica slowly picked up the last gift. It was the smallest one, but it was the one I had spent the most time on. She shouldn't be opening it without me. It would work if I were there... If I were alive...

She slowly untied the ribbon and peeled the tape off. The other watched. It was so quiet, so still, save for the crinkling of the paper.

She revealed the ring box and drew her breath in sharply. The others nodded at her as she looked at them, her tough facade faltering. She opened it slowly and stared hard at the diamond engagement ring sparkling at her.


	4. Chapter Four

[Note] This chapter is...useless. I'll warn you now. It's just a filler chapter, really. Better ones are on their way (promise).

Also, it's really weird. I do have an explanation.... But I'm not going to give it. I'll just let you read.

.___________________________________ 

**Four**

"Monica?" Phoebe said gently, reaching out a hand to steady Monica's trembling one.

The four of them watched her with concern as she gazed at the diamond ring. 

Say something, I thought. Say anything.

Monica slowly closed the box with a dull thud and placed it gently on the coffee table at the same time, brushing Phoebe's hand away. She slowly got up and looked around at her closest friends, essentially her family.

Ross stood up but she stepped back before he could give her a hug. Everyone waited tensely to see what Monica would do next. She took a step backwards and pivoted, slowly making her way to her room.

"I can't..." she began, but before she could finish her sentence, a tear fell. She walked into her room and slammed the door before anyone could make another move.

The remaining four started to clean up the wrapping paper and boxes. They each pocketed four remaining packages, Ross taking an extra fifth one. Gifts meant for me that would never be opened. 

* * *

Ross and Phoebe settled in the kitchen as Joey and Rachel walked out.

"I don't know how to handle this," Rachel said. Joey nodded, "I know. It's..." He drew in his breath sharply as he felt a lump in his throat, unwilling to let Rachel see any weakness. 

"I don't know who to blame but myself," Rachel said after a pause. Joey looked at her wide-eyed. Rachel shook her head as if trying to banish her thoughts, "It's true, isn't it? He went up there for Derek and me. If I hadn't asked him to do that, wouldn't he still be here now?"

Rachel didn't care about pride. She let her tears flow.

"You can't say that, Rach. It's not your fault. You couldn't have known," Joey started.

"Of course, but if I hadn't been asked him-" Rachel interrupted, but Joey silenced her. "Stop it, Rach. It was nobody's fault. You needed help. Chandler was your friend. He would have went up there anyway even if you didn't ask."

Rachel looked at him, her eyes wide. "What?" Joey asked.

"You said 'was.' He 'was' my friend," Rachel said slowly, as if it were too hard to say.

Joey sighed and wrapped her in a hug.

"That's all we can say now."

* * *

"She's a beautiful woman," my grandmother said.

The two of us were watching Monica as she slowly sank into the bed, pulling the covers up to her nose. 

"She's... perfect," I said, wishing I could wrap her in my arms. Comfort her. Anything. She closed her eyes as tears poured forth from behind her closed eyelids. She buried her face in my pillow. Did that help? I wondered. 

"I think you need to be alone right now," grandma said. I looked up into blue eyes strikingly similar to mine. "You'll be okay. You need some alone time with her anyway," she continued, nodding towards Monica. I watched as she walked away, towards whatever heaven she had created for herself.

_Chandler._

My attention snapped back to Monica. Without even my listening, Monica's thoughts had reached me. Could such a fragile person have such intense thoughts without breaking?

_Why?_ I don't know, Monica. I don't know.

_I'm so sorry. I don't know why we were so angry at eachother. It wasn't a big deal that you had to drive to Maine. I don't know why I made such a big deal of it..._

I grimaced as I reflected back on that day. But, I thought, it doesn't matter anymore. I could never really be angry at you, Monica.

_I don't understand. I'm trying to, but I can't. I need you. I need you to at least hear my thoughts, like you did before. I need you here, with me._

I can hear you, Monica. I really can.

_Why did you have to... If one of us had to die, why you? Why can't I be with you now? Why aren't you here, with me? Why? How could I let someone like you slip away from me? Why didn't you fight harder, Chandler? Why couldn't you fight the pain? Couldn't you have held on? For me? Couldn't you have stayed alive for me?_

I tried. I tried so hard!

_Was I not enough to keep you hanging on to your life? Was I not worth fighting for?_

Monica, you were everything to me. Please don't-

_I love you so much. I do. I love you..._

Exhaustion swept over her and she fell into a restless, dream-filled sleep. I could talk to her in her dreams. But it still was not the right time.

In heaven, my tears fell. On earth, it rained.


	5. Chapter Five

[Note] Thanks for all the reviews so far! I'm so grateful all of you have taken the time to read and review! I appreciate your feedback so much :)

It looks like this is going to be a rather long story... When I started I thought I could wrap it up within 10 chapters or so, but I don't see that happening (as of now). Anyway... we'll see. I just hope I don't disappoint you as I continue... =/

Alrighty..thanks again for reading, and please leave a review!

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**Five**

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stay in the home I've created. To know that on earth, Monica was in the same room I was sitting in here in heaven was too painful. Seeing the whole building empty, devoid of the noise and happy familiarity was too much to bear.

I exited the building and stepped onto the street. It seemed so normal. People going on a stroll, talking, laughing. Could we really all be dead?

"Do you remember me?"

I stopped beside a bench and looked down to see a boy, about twelve years old, with large glasses staring up at me. He was strikingly familiar, but I couldn't place a name to the face.

We stared at eachother a moment longer when it suddenly dawned on me.

"Greg? Greg Hartman?" I asked. The boy grinned.

He was a boy I had been friends with in middle school with all those years ago. I remembered seeing his seat empty one day and the teacher telling us what had happened. He died in a car accident, too. I remembered thinking about what a horrible death it must have been. How horrible it was to lose a friend that way.

Ironic, isn't it?

"I saw you arrive," he said. I looked at him in surprise. "I've watched my family since I arrived. Sometimes I watch you and the other people who were in our class. It's been fun watching you guys grow up," he confessed. I detected a twinge of envy in his voice. I sat down next to this child with an adult's mind.

"I'm sorry you had to come so soon," he said. I shrugged, "I got to live a while..."

"It's not enough, is it? I used to be angry. When I saw all those people who got to live sixty, seventy, eighty or more years, I felt resentful. But what can you do?" HIs question was more of a statement.

"I'm just... This is so surreal. It's like we're alive. Look at us, look at them," I said, surveying the people around us. Greg nodded, "It's just like living, except nothing goes wrong. And we don't get to be with the people we love."

* * *

Rachel's heels clicked as she made her way down the hospital corridor. She stopped and entered a room to find Derek sitting in his bed, his bandaged legs covered with the blanket.

"Rachel," he said, surprised, as he looked up. She moved a chair to face him and sat beside his bed.

"Hey. I'm sorry I for taking so long to come visit..." Rachel started, but trailed off, not being able to think of anything else. Derek nodded, "Yeah, I understand."

They sat there, not knowing what to say to eachother. Both growing more uncomfortable as the minutes progressed.

"Look, Rachel, I know this is a really hard time for you... And I'm sorry. And... I just want you to know that I take full responsibility for what happened," he said. Rachel avoided his gaze, "I don't blame you."

Derek sighed and tried to get her to look him in the eye. "I thought I would be able to do it. He looked so tired and..." He drew a deep breath, "I killed him, I know." Rachel sighed, "It's not your fault, it's mine. I asked him to come get us. How could he have died? People like him don't... How could I have come away unscathed while you sit here... If it's anybody's fault-"

"I was driving the car, Rachel. I fell asleep. I did the most horrible thing a person could do. I fell asleep behind the wheel and my friend is dead because of it," Derek said forcefully. Rachel looked at her hands.

They sat in silence again before Rachel finally was able to speak.

"I shouldn't have gone up with you to Maine. I don't know how we even got there. I guess it was just that there was so much going on. This thing with Ross and me, it was just beginning to become too much and I needed to get away. And then you came, and you're such a good person, you really are. I thought I had found someone I could connect with," she confessed. Derek sighed, "I don't know why I thought I could make you forget about Ross. It was obvious you wouldn't. Or couldn't."

Rachel shook her head, "I'm so sorry for having led you on like that. If all of this is anyone's fault, it's mine. More than anyone else's."

"Stop it! Rachel, it was not your fault. I can't talk to you while you're like this. You're not thinking clearly, neither am I. This isn't something we can discuss at this point in time," Derek told her. Rachel nodded and picked up her bag.

"You're right. I should go. I also came to ask if you're going to go to the funeral."

"I think the others would prefer if I didn't," Derek said.

"No, honey, don't say that. Just give it some time. It's in a couple days. I'll come and see you tomorrow." With that, Rachel patted his hand and walked out.

* * *

"Do you blame him?"

I had gone back to my apartment after talking to Greg. My grandmother was with me again. It's amazing how close people can get in such a short time, especially after death.

"I... I don't..." I answered, suprising myself. She nodded. A woman with infinite wisdom.

"It's amazing how easy it is to let things go after you're dead. I mean, there's no point in resentment anymore, is there? What's to come of it? It's not like they'd know," she said casually. 

"I don't want to let things go. I don't want to hold on to anything, either," I said, beginning to confuse myself. My grandmother smiled, "I know. That's why you don't let _everything_ go."

I looked at her. "Monica?"

She nodded.

"I wish I could help her, somehow," I said. 

"You can. But only when she's ready to be helped."

"How do I know when she's ready?

"If you love her that much, you will. When the time comes."

* * *

My funeral preparations were taken care of by Ross and Joey. Ross had taken care of everything with amazing efficiency. The coffin, church, graveyard, everything... you name it. Joey had the unwanted task of telling others. 

"Will you go?" Joey asked Monica. She closed her eyes and buried her face in her pillow. The bedroom door was closed to block out the noise from the TV, but they could hear it anyway. 

"I don't want to," she whispered without lifting her head. Joey pulled a lock of hair away from her face. It was stupid of me, but in heaven, I felt jealousy forming in the pit of my stomach.

"Ross worked so hard though. I think we all need to go. For closure," Joey added hesitantly. Monica lifted her head now, her eyes wide.

She sat up and glared at Joey clearly annoyed. He cringed as she spoke.

"There is no such thing as _closure_, Joey. Not for people like me. Not in situations like this," she whispered harshly. "Chandler is gone. The man I love is gone and you're all asking me to go to a ceremony where I'm supposed to say good-bye and remove him from my life forever?" 

She took a deep breath. Everything she had been holding in from that week was threatening to pour out.

"I thought all of you would understand. You all lost someone too, it's not just me. Why are you all so intent on making me feel better when-" her voice choked. Joey extended an arm to calm her, but she pulled away. She drew in a sharp breath and faced him, unable to stop the torrent of words. She poured out her confession.

"It's not possible! I will never be better. I've died with him. There is no living without him! Don't tell me people move on after loved ones pass away, because I could never move on. Every time I open my eyes in the morning I think about how Chandler doesn't anymore. Every night when I dream, I dream of him. Of him dying and how I never got to say good-bye. Of him being with us, making us laugh, and then of how he will never... _never_ do that anymore. What's the point of my life now? It's so hard just telling myself to breathe. It's so hard to do even that. Everytime I feel my heart beat, I feel as if it would burst. And I wish it would! I wish I had the courage to end my life so I could be with him again. My life revolved around him. It didn't matter where I was, what I was doing, who I was, as long as I made Chandler happy. He was the reason I cared - about everything! But he's not here anymore, is he? There is no life without him! So what do I do now? Why don't you all tell me if you all want me to get over this so much. What am I supposed to do now?"

Joey wrapped his arms around her as she dissolved into tears. 

I had never known Joey to have the right things to say. Even in death there are still surprises.

"You go through each day. You lean on your friends for support. Be around people who love you. Phoebe, Rachel, Ross, me. You remember Chandler. You think of him everyday, but you don't let the pain kill you. You think of how he still loves you, even in death. Because not even death could keep you two apart. You remember how he loved you more than life itself, and how you love him, too. You take that memory, then you say to yourself, 'What would he want me to do?' And then you do it. If not for you, then for him. Because if you let his death destroy you, then you're doing him the biggest dishonor."

Monica stopped crying, more from shock than comfort. Even Joey seemed a little surprised by his words.

"Chandler brings out the best in all of us."

They sat holding eachother, but thinking of me. I stopped watching. Even in heaven there is guilt. If there were a punishment greater than death, I would have taken it.


	6. Chapter Six

[Note] Not quite sure what this chapter is for. The latter part of it sort of introduces the main problem I want, but I don't know how that'll go as I write this. I had lots of ideas when I started, and new ones are forming as I go along. We'll see as we go along :)

Thanks for the reviews, everyone! Please continue R/R!

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**Six**

"Monica?"

Rachel took a tentative step into Monica's room, sitting down slowly on the bed, not wanting to disturb her.

"What?" came the muffled reply. Rachel rubbed Monica's back through the covers.

"I wanted to talk to you," she said hesitantly. There was brief pause before Monica turned onto her back to face Rachel. "What?"

Rachel looked down at her hands and chewed her lip nervously. She exhaled and looked at Monica.

"I'm sorry," she said simply. Monica frowned, "Okay..."

"I'm not very good with words, with subtlety and all that, so I'm just going to go right out and say it. I'm sorry for everything. I know that all this is because of me and..." her voice trailed off as she fought to quell a lump in her throat.

Monica, I thought, tell her it's not. It's nobody's fault...

"Rachel, honey, I don't blame you," Monica said gently, finally looking Rachel in the eyes. The latter flinched when she saw how bloodshot her eyes were, how tearstained her face was.

Rachel pulled something out of her pocket. It was the box with the engagement ring on it. "You should keep this safe."

Monica took the box slowly, her fingers clenched it. I felt as if her fingers were wrapping around my now still heart.

"Monica... please don't hurt anymore," Rachel begged. 

Monica didn't care about pride anymore. She was too exhausted to bother with her facade. The tears sprang forth once again.

"I don't know how to feel anything else anymore," she said. She wiped her eyes. "I can't talk right now. I need to be alone," she explained. Rachel nodded and got up.

"I know this is the worst thing I can ask, but... Please come with me to see Derek," Rachel asked. Monica gasped audibly.

"Rach..."

"i know, I know it's the worst thing for you to do now, but... Mon, he needs to speak to you. And... Oh God, Mon, if there were any other way to say this... Any other way to handle this situation..." Rachel mumbled, mentally scolding herself for being so insensitive.

Monica felt the velvet of the box and sighed, "Just for a moment."

Rachel gave her a small smile and walked out of the room. 

After Rachel walked out, Monica sank back onto her pillows, putting the ring box on the nighstand. She once again, cried herself to sleep.

Just take it one step at a time, baby. One step at a time.

* * *

"If this is heaven, where is God?" I asked Greg. He shrugged. "I haven't met him. I don't think he exists and I've been dead sixteen years."

Greg looked around the apartment. "Your home is nice. Are you saving this for your friends?" "How could there be a heaven without God?"

Greg sat down on the couch. It was still the strangest sight to see a friend I had lost during childhood walking around a place I had called home in adulthood.

"Is this even heaven? How do we know where we are? Look at this place. This was your life. If they say death is a punishment, then guess what this is. Haven't you noticed the longer you've been dead, the less of yourself you're able to grasp?"

I leaned against the kitchen table. "I don't know what you mean."

"When you're alive, you're consumed with emotion. You have people around you who make you care. You feel things. Some feel more violently than others. You follow me?"

"So far."

"In heaven, what is there to care about? There is no point beyond where we are. We're stuck in a place where we can create entire universes for our own pleasure but have no one to share them with. And when the people you love finally die, who's to say they're going to want to be in your heaven?"

A slow coldness was beginning to creep over me. What kind of place was this? What happened to fat cherubs with harps?

"That's not the worst that could happen," Greg continued, his child eyes looking at me with the intelligence of a man wiser than any intellectual I had ever known.

I stared at the ground for a moment, afraid to ask the question. But I needed to know the answer. "What's worse than not spending eternity with the people I love?"

Greg cast a sympathetic glance at me before looking out the window to the street below. He turned back.

"I really dont want to be the one to be telling you all this. Not now, you're too new. You'd be overwhelmed."

Frustration mounted. Even if Greg was a grown man, he still had the physique of a child; I couldn't bring myself to yell at him.

"I need to know," I pleaded.

He sighed and nodded. "Monica is grieving now, but who's to say that the pain won't eventually become dull? She still has a whole life ahead of her. There is a good chance she could meet someone else. That someone else could make her as happy as you did."

"But I want that for her..." I said slowly, no longer sure what it is I was really feeling.

"Because you love her. You think, and I'm sure she does too right now, that someday in the distant future, after she's led a full life, she'll return to you after death." "She loves me," I said lamely.

"Yes. She probably always will. But she could find another person she wants to spend her life with. After a lifetime, they might want to spend eternity together too." He shrugged helplessly. "I didn't want to tell you."

The words sank in slowly. What happened to feeling only happiness in heaven? What happened to bliss? Death was not supposed to be more complicated than life.

"Then this wouldn't be heaven! Not without Monica!" I exclaimed. Greg flinched at my outburst, "I'm sorry."

He sat back down on the couch again. "See why there is no God?"

I realized what he was saying now. My mouth became dry and I choked on my words.

"Because those we love ultimately decide whether we live in heaven or hell."


End file.
